


You are my design

by castieldeansangel



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Hannigram - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:59:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castieldeansangel/pseuds/castieldeansangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham knows something is not okay with him, his mind is not working well. The only way he can find is being with him...</p><p>Doctor Hannibal Lecter is used to have control over everything, his feelings, expressions, words, also over every situation that is put in front of him, he even has control over people. So he is obviously surprised when something unexpected happens: he falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It can't be (Will)

_I took the knife, I was angry and wanted to show her how much pain she had made me feel, I wanted her to suffer._

_She had abandoned me, she had left me all alone, and then she had comeback, apologising, not thinking about how it would make me feel. She wasn't my mother, she was someone who didn't want me, therefore, I didn't want her either._

_So I took the knife and inserted it into her flesh, just as my father; or the man who acted as my father my whole life, had taught me. I made her suffer, cut in places of her body I knew would make her feel more pain._

_And finally, when her breathing and the beats of her heart had almost completely faded, I stabbed her in the heart. I wanted her and everyone else to know how much she had hurt me._

**_This is my design._ **

This is what William Graham was thinking while standing in the middle of John Hopkins' butcher shop. Jack had called him because that morning they found Diana Stephan's body slaughtered, but the killer had escaped. They gave him all the information they had, so he could say whether it was who they thought (Diana's kid) or someone else. 

"It was John Hopkins, you better catch him. He is unstable and he might kill or hurt someone again." He told Crawford when he was totally convinced.

"Thank you, you can go home now. Have a nice weekend."

When he was driving home he wondered about many things: Abigail and her mental health, Jack and his way of controlling him, Alana and how she was trying to avoid him. Suddenly, he found himself thinking about Hannibal, his elegant way of drinking wine, his slender and long fingers taking the glass with such delicacy, his relaxed features while he smells it right before his fine and red lips press against the glass to take a sip.

The things he would do just to feel those exquisite lips on his...

Will widened his eyes when he realised what he was thinking, he immediately turned on the radio and tried to concentrate in what the voice was saying, a woman was giving the news. It was going to be a cold weekend.  


	2. It can't be (Hannibal)

He was cutting the kidneys to his  ** _Rognons à la Bordelaise._** He wasn't using a normal meat, actually he couldn't even remember the last time he did. He had chosen the most healthy kidneys he found in his fridge. They belonged to Matthew Grayson, a young student who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Hannibal didn't only have one reason to kill, the principal one was to eat, of course; but the other one was to bother the FBI. The most exuberant murders were dedicated to the FBI (especially to Will Graham). The ones that weren't outstanding had the aim to provide him satisfaction and, more specifically, good meat. For the second objective, he always chose the most vigorous and athletic individuals.  

Hannibal had invited Will to have dinner with him, so everything had to be perfect. Will wasn't just another person, for Hannibal, Will was exceptional. His empathy marvelled him, it was such a mystery for him. He was the challenge he had waited all his life to arrive. He was the only one he thought could understand him, the only one he could feel completely serene with. He was his opposite, thus he felt only he could understand him. Will was the only person Hannibal doubt could kill without feeling anything at all (he didn't feel that way about anyone, not even Abigail). Everyone else was disposable, everyone except Will. At first, he knew they had to be more than patient and psychiatrist, now that they were, he wanted them to be more than that. But that couldn't be. He couldn't want to be with Will. He was his experiment, his perfect subject. That was it. He couldn't have feelings for anyone. And most of all, he couldn't have feelings for Will Graham. 


	3. Dinner

He tasted the wine, he had never been a fan of white wine, but that one was indeed exquisite. And how wasn't it going to be perfect, if Hannibal had chosen it?

"I hope you enjoy it, it a _**Pasqua Pinot Grigio delle Venezie,**_ one of my finest wines." Hannibal said as he placed the  **Rognons à la Bordelaise** in the table.

"Yes, it was perfect. And this," he said, pointing at the meal "looks delicious. I don't think I deserve this much effort." 

"Of course you do, William. I consider you as my friend." 

Will gave him slightly crooked, highly expressive smile. That made his stomach made something strange, like a flip. His stomach wasn't supposed to _flip._

"Have you had any nightmares recently?" Hannibal asked when the silence started to feel uncomfortable. 

"Yes. Yesterday I dreamed about that night." Will didn't mention which night, he didn't have to. Hannibal knew perfectly well what he meant.

"What did you see?" Hannibal left his fork and entwined his fingers on the table.

"Everything, the call, Abigail's throat being cut, him being shot..."

"What was different?" Hannibal and his capacity to... know things, to examine and tell from people's behaviour whether they were hiding something or not never ceased to amaze him.  

"I..." Will hesitated. "I was Garret Jacob Hobbs. And you were me." Will seemed ashamed. 

Hannibal pursed his lips and observed him, thinking. 

"Why do you think you saw this?" He asked finally. 

"I think it was because I identify myself with Garret Jacob Hobbs since the moment I killed him, I over-empathised with him or something of that sort." Will answered, he didn't have to consider his answer much, he hadn't stopped thinking about the dream since he had it. 

"And why was I representing you?"

Will didn't open his mouth, just glanced somewhere else. He had thought about that too, a lot, actually. But he would never admit it. 

"I don't know."

"William, we both know you do."

Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

"It's because I sympathise with you. If I had to choose someone to represent me, that would be you."

Hannibal nodded slowly and then stood up.

"I think it's time for dessert." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know nothing about white wines. Or French food. Or anything that isn't hamburgers and soda.


	4. Dinner: Second act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the lack of material the series gives me, I need to use a little of information from the movies. But no worries, it's only some aspects from his childhood, not big deal!

"Would you like some music?" Hannibal asked, as he arrived with two _**choux à la crème**  _and some tea for dessert.

"That sounds nice, thank you." 

He walked away and put his favourite act of Venus and Adonis by John Blow. William Graham had something he didn't quite understood, that made him want to impress him, to show him the best of himself. 

"I was wondering." Will started as Hannibal came back and took a seat. 

"Yes, Will?" 

"You said before that... you considered us friends." Hannibal nodded. "But then I realised that I don't know nothing about you." He glanced him intently, giving him the hint that it was a question.

"You do know things about me." Hannibal frowned a little. "You know that I'm very peculiar with what I eat, that I'm the furthest thing from a vegetarian." A faint smile appeared on his face. "Also, that my taste in music, art and people is very..." he looked for a word that could fit "Particular."  

"You are right. But, apart from that I have no idea of who you are."

Hannibal took a sip of his tea before answering, he was thinking about what he could tell and what he couldn't, but mostly about how he could use it in his advantage. 

"What do you want to know?"

Will considered it a minute. He wanted to know everything about him, but he couldn't tell him that, so he asked what he wanted to know the most. 

"Tell me about your childhood."

Hannibal touched his jaw, in a thoughtful pose. Then he sighed.

"My parents died when I was young, I was left alone with my little sister, Mischa. She was murdered when we were children." He said impossibly calmed, no sign of any feeling in his voice. That made Will's heart break. 

"I'm so sorry." He extended his hand and took Hannibal's without thinking. 

"It's fine. It was a long time ago."

Hannibal observed Will's hand on his. It felt cold and harsh, though somehow cozy and safe. It felt like entering a warm place on the winter. 

William followed Hannibal's gaze and when he noticed the contact, he immediately let go. He felt his cheeks getting warm, he couldn't remember the last time he had blushed. 

"Are you cold?" Hannibal asked him.

"No, not at all."


	5. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night passed by without complications, Hannibal tried to keep a safe conversation and soon, Will was gone...

When William left, Hannibal felt a rather unknown emptiness. He noticed how much he enjoyed the other's company. He, Hannibal Lecter, the Chesapeake Ripper, the man whose little sister was killed and cannibalised when they were just kissed, the man who had lost everything and had learnt how to live with it... missed someone. And not just someone, he missed his experiment, his opportunity to understand the human mind, the man he had been controlling and, even if he didn't want to admit it, destroying since the first time they met. He missed Will Graham. 

He sighed and slowly walked to his room. Once he was there, he took his clothes off and went to take a shower. 

As he was opening the hot water key, Will's smile came to his mind, followed by the sound of his laughter, so low and sweet. And that's all that took for Hannibal to have the need he hadn't have for over two years: give himself pleasure. 

"What are you doing to me?" He growled as he moved his hand up and down his penis, imagining the detective being there with him. 

Now, _that_ was concerning. 


	6. Nightmare

_It was dawn, a strange orange hue mixed with the soft blue of the clouds, the ground was white thanks to the snow and the once green trees were covered in snow._

_There was a tree different from the others, it wat wasn't covered with snow, it was impossible to distinguish its green colour thanks to the darkness, but Will knew it wasn't like the others._

_Next to the impossible tree, there was a deer. Their eyes met. And out of a sudden, the deer ran. Will followed him, with no apparent reason._

_After what seemed like an hour, the deer stopped, Will doing the same but a couple of steps behind it._

_Will was looking directly at the deer's eyes, but the deer wasn't looking at him. Will knew something had terrified the deer, it showed in its eyes, but he didn't want to look up, he was afraid._

_When he got the courage, he saw what had scared the deer. It wasn't a what, but a who._

_In front of him was a wide forest clearing with a dry tree in the middle. A figure hung from the highest branch of the tree. Will could identify it immediately._

_He ran toward it and put it down._

_He embraced the dead body._

_He didn't care about the blood._

_He didn't care about the smell._

_He only cared about the person in his arms._

_He only cared about Hannibal._

_"I love you" he murmured against the cold ear, knowing he wouldn't hear him._


	7. Our killer is in love

"What do you see?" Jack's voice came from somewhere far and close at the same time, he hardly heard it because he was already lost in the moment. 

_I found them, they were in love. They were not only in love, but they were together and happy. That makes me angry. No. That makes me jealous. I want that, but I can't have it. So I decide to separate them._

_I get to their motel at midnight, the one living soul in miles is the owner, who is lying on the ground of the reception, he passed out from drinking vodka. No one will find out until morning, and most important: no one will interrupt me._

_I enter the room when they are asleep, they are lying next to each other, cuddling. It makes me sick. I go to the bed and start working. I inject both paralysers, I know what I'm doing. I want them to feel everything I do to them, but I don't want them to shout or move._

_Taking my bistoury, I am ready to start. I make an incision in the man's chest, his eyes squeezing shut and a soft squeal comes from his throat, I know he is in pain. When my job is done, I take his heart out and I feel how the man's life fades in my hands. I do the same with the woman and when I have both hearts, I finish my work of art._

_They're attached. At least their hearts are. Everyone will see they died because of love now._

_This is my design._

"He is lonely." Will's voice called Jack and Beverly's attention. 

"What else does it tell you?" Jack pushed him. 

Will blinked several times, he was a little confused, it was getting harder to come back to reality after imagining scenarios. 

"Uh... He saw them, they had what he craved but couldn't have. So he took it away from them when he saw his chance. This is someone we already know, but he is different now... he didn't kill for the same reason he always does." His voice trembled, but Jack ignored it. 

"We already know him?" Crawford asked with a frown, he didn't find similarities with other cases. 

"I'm afraid this is the Chesapeake Ripper." Will said with a grimace, seeming confused himself. 

"It can't be. This can't be him. He is a professional, he doesn't kill for loneliness." Jack was shocked and refused to accept the idea of his number one killer doing something like that. 

"Actually, it can be." Beverly added, looking pensive. "Our killer has the same surgical skills, he has this... manner of doing it which fits the Chesapeake Ripper, he also displays the bodies in a theatrical way that always tries to show something. To tell us something." She explained.

"That's right. The only difference here is what he is trying to tell us here." 

"Yes? And what is it that he is trying to tell us here, Will?"

He thought for a second.

"That he is in love."


	8. Hope

It was night, a glass of wine was still full in front of him on his desk. He had been ignoring his thoughts while his patients were there, but when the last left, he got lost in them.

He was unsure, for the first time in his life he had done something without thinking about it deeply, and now he was afraid he had made a mistake. 

Hannibal had let Will see something real and important about him. He had confessed his love. It was an unconventional and hard to understand way, but he knew Will would know. He didn't care about getting caught. He cared about the image he would have. He was a normal killer now, he had let himself take by emotions and there was nothing to distinguish him from the rest. 

Someone knocked on the door and he frowned a little, no one was supposed to go to his office that late at night. He walked to the door slowly.

"Alana." He smiled softly as he opened the door.

"Hannibal. I'm sorry for visiting you so late." 

"Oh, don't worry. It's always a pleasure to see you. Come in." He moved, so Alana could walk in. 

"May I ask you the reason of your presence here?" Hannibal asked when they were sitting down, facing each other. 

"I'm here because of Will. I'm worried about him."

"And why is that?" Hannibal's frown deepened into a scowl. **  
**

"He told me he was having a hard time focusing on reality and that he was having hallucinations." Alana's face was a bit wrinkled with concern.

"He has commented this in his sessions." He nodded. 

"But he told me there was something he wasn't telling you..." He hesitated for a second. 

"You don't have to tell me." Hannibal reassured her. 

"I know. I just think you should know, because this could balk your doctor-patient relationship." 

"You know our relationship is not purely professional anymore, we have become friends." He corrected her. 

"I know, but this could affect your friendship as well."

"What is it, Alana?" 

"His bad dreams and some of his hallucinations involve you." She explained. 

"In what way?" Hannibal had an idea of what she was telling him. _Not hope, but a well fostered notion_ he told himself.

"He dreams about losing you." 

That was it, Hannibal's perfect constructed walls, all his coherent thoughts and consciously made expressions were gone. All thanks to one single hope: the one of Will Graham loving him. 
    
    
      
        
      
    


	9. You

He and Alana had agreed not to tell Will about their conversation, Hannibal wanted to get him to talk by himself.

"So, Will. How are your nightmares?" He asked him, with his hands on his lap.

The other's eyes seem lost in a place no one had ever been and no one will ever be. Hannibal craved to know that place.

"They are getting worse. Distinguishing reality is getting more tiring for me now." He ran his hand through his hair. 

"Tell me about them." 

Will sighed and took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes.

"I stopped dreaming about Garret Jacob Hobbs."

"Well, that's an improvement." Hannibal nodded once.

"No, it isn't." The man in front of him made his peculiar grimace that looked like a manic smile, the one Hannibal had grown fond to. "They got much worse."

"Would you like to explain?" The doctor raised his eyebrows slightly.

"I'm not sure if that would be appropriate." Will looked at the floor.

"You don't have to tell me anything that makes you feel uncomfortable." 

Will took a deep breath and eyed him, quickly avoiding his gaze again.

"I..." He licked his lips and it took all of Hannibal's self control not to stare at them. "My nightmares are about you dying." He said finally, his lower lip and his hands trembling.

 _Well, he said it_ Hannibal smiled to himself as he ignored the strange feeling in his chest, the one he had been ignoring for a long time.


	10. Now he knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gif is the face Hannibal would do at the end of the chapter... I love that little smile

 

"And what do you think is the reason of your nightmares?" Hannibal seemed unperturbed by Will's words, which hurt him. He thought he would get something else from him, a little smile, an awkward change of subject, _anything._  But no, Hannibal had acted as usual: he tried to help him understand it as if it was just another dream, just another crazy invention of his funny little brain. 

"I don't know..." Will burrowed his brow and closed his eyes, thinking. When he found the answer, he didn't say it. He just opened his eyes and searched for the doctor's face, locking his eyes on Hannibal's. 

"Will?" 

"I have to go." The blue eyed man got up and took his jacket.

"Good bye, Will." Hannibal stood up as well and opened the door for him. Will Graham didn't even look at him as he walked again from his office. 

 _Now he knows._ Hannibal smiled. 


	11. Understanding

The floor was cold, he could feel it through his pyjamas but he didn't care. He was caressing his dogs, they were lying in a circle around him. His face was twitching, just as it does when he is having a nightmare. But it wasn't a nightmare. For the first time in what looked like years, he was completely aware of what was actually happening, and it wasn't good at all. 

He understood, his eyes were finally opened.  _The reason is that I love you_ a little voice in his head had said earlier, when Hannibal asked him what he thought was the reason of his nightmares. He had suspected he felt something for him, but the word _love_ never seemed to fit. He had always thought he was much more complicated than that, his mind was much more difficult than that. All those years he had thought love wasn't something he could feel, maybe a curiosity or an interest, even lust, but not love. Love was a privilege he couldn't have. Or so he had thought until Hannibal arrived. 

_I can't lose him._


	12. Kiss (Will)

"Is everything alright?" Pursed lips, furrowed brow, mildly narrowed eyes; he was always impressed of how Hannibal could make any expression without losing his composure, not even in the slightest. 

"Yes. I need to talk to you." Will flinched a little as Hannibal walked inside his house. He had called him earlier and asked him to come, he was surprised by how fast he had arrived. 

"What is it you want to talk about?" Hannibal sat on one of the cushions while Will took his dogs out. 

Will opened his mouth to talk, but he couldn't think on a way to say what was in his mind. He finally sighed, giving up. A forced smile and a twitch on his face later, he was in front of Hannibal, taking his hand. The man stood up, eyebrows raised with curiosity. "I won't say it because I know you've already figured it out." Deep breath to gain courage. "But I'll show it."

Thin but plump, soft but rough, delicate but wild, a slight taste of wine... everything on them said Hannibal. The best lips he could ever dream of tasting. The best part: it wasn't a dream. 


	13. Kiss (Hannibal)

He let out the breath he didn't know was holding. It was a rare feeling for him, being startled. Though he wasn't surprised by the fact that Will kissed him, but for what that kiss made him feel. His life had always been a chain of very well controlled moments, until William Graham, his experiment, arrived.

Will's lips were tender and insecure. They felt like a very expensive piece of art you touched very carefully so you won't break it, he had never stopped his fierceness before, but it felt like, if he was too savage, Will would wreck in his arms. _His arms,_ which somehow ended up being around Will's waist. He decided he didn't care and focused on the movement of soft lips on his.

And then, for the first time in his life, he just let go.


	14. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I thought the image belonged here.

  


Everything was a chaotic mix of touches, caresses, soft moans and whimpers. Limbs were everywhere, there was place for no restrains, no thoughts, just pleasure. 

The once delicate interchange of smooth movements of lips became a sharp fight of desperate and greedy tongues and teeth. And the arms, which at first were innocently placed on just waist and neck, turned into determined creatures seeking for something to touch, grab, stroke. Promptly, there was no hurdle between them. Nothing seemed impossible, because nothing was. 

Hannibal bit and kissed later, leaving a mark everywhere, claiming what was already his. Will's previously snowy skin was currently blemished and slightly bruised. Neck, collarbone, shoulders, hips, thighs... nothing was safe from Hannibal's eager mouth. 

On the other hand, Will was savouring every sting and the followed brush. It was utterly perfect, his senses were overpowered. Every nerve exceptionally susceptible. Any sign of control over himself was gone, consumed by the outburst of passion. He was a meld of whines, cries, gasps and pants... unable to stop and, to be sincere, he didn't wish to cease. The thought of nothing being able to overtake the moment was entirely erroneous. 

Leaving no unexplored place on his lover's body, Hannibal damped three fingers with his tongue, blue eyes hypnotized by the sensuality of this movement. After this, he lowered them to Will's entrance, using his lips to make him forget the pain. They groaned in unison, Hannibal because of the heat and tightness inside the man beneath him, while this one because of the sudden invasion and the sensation of burn and bliss this provoked. Three fingers and several minutes of delightful circulated movements, he was ready. 

Sighing, Hannibal drew his fingers out, his dick taking their place. Slowly, he slid inside him. And again, Will was a precious piece of art he was willing to protect with his life. 

Breaths hitching and hearts pounding, they created a perfect tempo, moving as one, hips rocking and thrusting in excellent harmony. Clumsy mouths, careless hands, touching was necessary, but both were thoroughly focused on just one thing: Hannibal filling up Will. 

Soon, they were both on the edge. A heated, tingling sensation in their stomachs warning them. Will attempted to muffle his sounds on Hannibal's shoulder, but he forbade it, holding his jaw and making his eyes, which weren't blue anymore thanks to his blown pupils, lock on his. 

And finally, it happened. Will's cum was spurted into his and Hannibal's abdomen, whose orgasm arrived seconds after. 

 


	15. After

The ecstasy faded and the rational thoughts came back. _What have I done._ Regret wasn't what he felt, it was something else... guilt. But it couldn't be. Not him. It couldn't be guilt. He just buried the feeling deep down in his mind and started thinking on what he would do next, how he would get control back and take advantage of the situation. 

A bond had been created, one he knew Will had never had with anyone else. The bond wasn't sex, no, it was something so much deeper and complicated. He had connected so much through empathy with someone, that he had developed a feeling toward that someone. The feeling being love, and the someone being him.

 _This is very convenient for my plans_ Hannibal did his best to ignore the strange feeling in his guts. Remorse, a new feeling for him, but also an unwanted one. 

He started the new stage of his very recently prepared plan and wrapped his arms around the warm body by his side.  _He will fall in love with me. He will need me so much he will do anything I say. And I'll take him to the limit._


	16. Unusual

"This isn't a normal case." Jack's voice sounded tired in the phone as he explained Will the most recent case. It was a few towns from there, so he started driving as soon as Jack told him. It was three something in the morning, but he didn't care, those days he really didn't care much about anything. Everyone had been asking about his new and odd but still good state of mind, he was smiling more, laughing, and the strangest thing, he even tried telling some  _jokes._ Of course, his attempts were awful, but everyone laughed and appreciated them anyway, because he had never done such a thing. No one knew the reason of this transformation, but they had to admit it as a development. Only one person knew the reason, and the funny thing is that this person was also the reason.

Hannibal and him had been sharing more moments after that night, two weeks ago, but they were not only sensual moments, but also different kinds of intimate occasions. They had made love three more times after that marvellous first time, they had gone to the opera once and out to dinner twice. The rest of their time spent together was in Hannibal's house, having dinner or just reading together, or in his office during Will's sessions. Hannibal said a referral wasn't necessary, because they were both grown up men who knew how to put a line between a professional relationship and an affectionate one. Will didn't give it much thought, if none at all and accepted what Hannibal said. They had made a silent agreement, they were together now, but they didn't talk about it with no one else. _And it's okay_ , Will kept telling himself,  _it's nobody else's business._

When Will arrived, Jack was crossed armed, watching as Freddie Lounds was escorted out of the crime scene by the cops.

"Sorry I can't stay to chat, Donald Strachey." She winked at Will, with a smug smile on her face. "And I think I can handle it from here, gentlemen." Jack nodded, looking defeated, and the cops released her. She fixed her hair and walked away. 

"Why was she here? And why did she call me Donald Strachey?" Will looked bewildered, with a scowl on his face, he fixed his glasses and glared at Jack.

"I'll explain it to you later" Jack said flatly, obviously wanting to drop the subject, but Will couldn't do it. He knew who Donald Strachey was, and the possible reason why the journalist had called him that frightened him. 

"No, you'll explain me now." Crawford raised an eyebrow at him, quite surprised because of the disrespect so uncharacteristic of Will, but he decided he deserved to know.

"Well, she was here to ask for information, which I gave her." He stopped and gauged Will's reaction, he was stunned, Jack was a very reserved person, especially when talking about cases. "I gave it to her because I had to. She knew something very important about my best man and threatened with publishing it."  

Will's breath became erratic, his heart started pounding so hard it was all he could hear. He knew what Jack wasn't telling him, but he asked anyway. "What does she know?" Jack just sighed and Will could swear he saw him slouching. 

"Will, she knows about you and Hannibal." 


	17. Control

_I don't know the man, I have no reason to kill him, I just have a reason to kill. I was looking for an easy target, someone who could serve my purpose; it isn't personal. I enter his cabin, far away in the woods, knowing that it will take time for them to find the body. Stepping inside, I have one specific aim: to show that I am in charge._

_The man looks at me, immediately knowing what is going to happen. There is only one reason why anyone would break into such a hidden place. He is old, ready. There is no fear in his eyes, just resignation. Any person would have found it convenient, but not me. Not this time. It could interfiere with my plans. I have to get something important for him, anything. I look around and then I find it: a letter from her daughter. She sent it two months ago, with a picture of her new house. I show it to him and the look in his eyes tells me that I got it right. Now he will do whatever I want him to do. No obstructions._

_I take the scalpel and hand it to him, giving him instructions of what to do. I'm not going to waste the opportunity to have a good meal, I don't want his kidneys, lungs or any of those organs, they most probably haven't been well taken care of, the man is old and has all the signs of an alcoholic. So I go for the heart. I make him take it out from his chest, all by himself while I watch. This is not because I don't want to do it myself, but because I want to make a point. After his last breath, which is way before he can finish his task, thanks to a bad incision and an ignored bleeding; I take the scalpel and finish the job, taking his heart and saving it. Then I just sew him close again, cleaning him up. Because, as far as I concern, he didn't really deserve it. I had nothing against him, I wasn't angry for any reason, he hadn't been rude or anything, it had nothing to do with him. I just wanted them to see, I just wanted to show them that I can do whatever I want to. And that they can't stop me._

**_This is my design._ **

After digesting what Jack told him, Will understood there was nothing he could do by the moment. He focused on the crime scene, the victim being David Patrick, a 72 years old man, who moved out there five years ago, after his wife's dead, "seeking for peace", though everyone knew he just wanted to be alone and wait for his inescapable death. He used to be an ordinary man, an accountant who never had enough money for her wife and daughter, but never seemed to lack beers. 

"He wants us to know that he is the boss." Will broke the silence without even glancing at Jack, he just kept focused on the immaculate body. 

"He? Whose boss?" Jack's voice was demanding, but Will didn't flinch at it, as he usually did. 

"Yes, he. He is our killer." Will stared at Jack, knowing that there was no need to specify who _our killer_ was. "And he wants us to know that he has utter controls over us." 


	18. Talk

Hannibal was expecting Will's arrival, he knew it would be anytime soon. When the comfortable silence of his house was disturbed with the usual sound of his doorbell, he smiled. Of course, he had to hide his leer as he opened the door, he was very well aware of the importance of what you let others see or know from you. He scowled instead of beaming, a much more appropriate reaction to William's expression. 

"Is something wrong?" A hint of concern 'escaped' from his lips and Will gave him a sad smile in response. "They know." It was the only thing he said before throwing himself at Hannibal's arms, this one felt that if he let go of the younger man, he would fall into such a deep place from where he would never be able to come back, and regardless he felt overly curious about how it would be if he let go, he didn't. Letting him go wasn't an option just yet, so he embraced him and held him tight, preventing him from falling apart. 

He didn't ask anything else, partly because he knew Will wasn't in condition to talk about it, and partly because he already knew what had happened. He didn't know thanks to his amazing capacity of deduction or empathy (that one was Will's fort, not his), but because he had planned it, he had made it happen. He had sold Freddie Lounds information (anonymously, of course) in exchange of a little favour, to show at a crime scene and rub what she knew in everyone's face (he was aiming for two people in specific, Jack and Will, but it would look very obvious). She had, naturally, agreed; not without trying to find out more things, of course, but he had used all his methods to keeping her away from the truth of who he was and what he wanted. Thank the Gods for the gutter press. 

After reassuring Will, he leaded him to his room and placed him on the bed, then he went to the kitchen and put enough valerian root tea for him and Will. 

Everything was going perfectly, Will had told him how worried he was, not for himself, but for Hannibal's reputation and social life. The psychiatrist had assured him that everything was fine, that he didn't care about what people said, it was their lives, and if they had decided to live them together it was no one else's business but theirs. 

When they finished their tea, Hannibal left the empty cups on the bedside table and snuggled close to Will, head on his shoulder and arm around his waist. He couldn't help his smile, he keep repeating to himself in his mind that it was because of how well his plan was going and not because of being so close to Will, that he wasn't the reason of his happiness. But he was too clever for that and he knew how he felt about William, and that he had to accept it sooner or later. He ignored his thoughts and fell asleep, his breathing and beating matching Will's.


End file.
